


Warm As The Summer

by Dreamin



Series: Making A Home In Your Heart [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, post episode: s01e06 The Speckled Band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: When Helen Stoner's former fiancé is engaged again just three days after calling off their wedding, Sherlock Holmes comes to her aid once more.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Helen Stoner
Series: Making A Home In Your Heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967215
Comments: 30
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> The title is a line from the song "Sympathy, Tenderness" from the musical Jekyll & Hyde, which was brought to my attention by this stunning [fanvid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kw-dFvJSDOA) by Gypsycyn.
> 
> Helen is 27, Sherlock is 50.
> 
>   
> 

Just three days after the case John had dubbed “The Adventure of the Speckled Band,” Sherlock found that the extraordinary series of events was not yet over. There, in the society column of the morning edition of _The Times_ , was an announcement.

_Mr. Percy Armitage of London and Miss Helen Stoner, formerly of Stoke Moran in Surrey, have called off their engagement. No breach of promise suit is expected._

_Now that is surprising,_ Sherlock thought. _I wonder what could have been the cause – she seemed content with her choice._ He considered offering his sympathy to Miss Stoner but decided such a thought was uncharacteristic of him.

Three days later, another announcement in _The Times_ made him reconsider.

_Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Mason announce the engagement of Mr. Percy Armitage of London and their daughter Miss Louisa Mason of London. A September wedding is planned._

Sherlock felt his ire rising. _A scant three days after he ends his engagement with Miss Stoner, he is engaged to a ‘diamond of the first water’ – a celebrated and quite wealthy beauty. This man is quite undeserving of Miss Stoner and I hope his new fiancée vexes him for the rest of their lives._

“What’s that you’re reading, Holmes?” John asked as he ate his breakfast at the table.

“Miss Stoner’s former fiancé is engaged again,” he said from his place on the settee, his displeasure clear in his tone.

John looked up at that, surprised. “So soon?”

“Yes, and to Miss Louisa Mason.”

“The girl with the twenty thousand pound fortune? I imagine Miss Stoner is feeling very ill-used indeed.” John paused and Sherlock could practically see the wheels turning in his friend’s head. Not that John was a stupid man, far from it – it’s just that the man’s thought process was easy to read on his face. “I know you don’t want anything to do with a client once the case is solved but considering that Miss Stoner has no one else and she was very grateful for your help, I think you should see to her welfare, Holmes.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Your attempts at matchmaking have always been heavy-handed, Watson, but this exceeds your previous efforts.”

John at least had the decency to blush slightly. “I only meant that she seemed very much to like you, and you seemed very protective of her.”

_I don’t know about her liking me, but she was very appreciative of my help._ “As London’s criminal class seems to have taken another holiday…”

“Good,” John said, his grin a little too knowing. “Miss Stoner is still at The Langham Hotel. While you’re seeing to her, I’ll see to my patients.” He finished his breakfast then rose and smiled at his friend. “And if this does develop into something more than friendship, you couldn’t find a better woman for you than her.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, Watson.”

John chuckled as he walked out the door.

* * *

Sherlock hesitated a moment before using the handle of his walking stick to knock on the room door he was given by the clerk at the front desk.

“Who is it?” came Miss Stoner’s lovely but wary voice.

“Mr. Holmes.”

The door opened to reveal an emotionally distraught Helen Stoner. Her eyes were red from crying and one hand clutched a linen handkerchief. When her eyes met his, they filled with tears. “Oh, Mr. Holmes…”

Sherlock quickly moved into the room, keeping his eyes on her as he closed and locked the door behind him, then he held out his arms to her. She went to him without hesitation, burying her face in his shoulder as she clung to him, the sound of her sobs breaking his well-guarded heart.

One arm went around her protectively while his other hand came up to cradle the back of her head. That such an unworthy man was able to break such a strong woman made him want to find Mr. Percy Armitage and tear him to pieces. _But Miss Stoner’s well-being comes first, always._

Once her tears had subsided, she pulled away then took a step back, wiping her tears from her face as she avoided his eyes. “Forgive me,” she murmured.

“My dear lady,” he said gently, “there is nothing to forgive, but you must know that your former fiancé is not worth your tears.”

“I know,” Miss Stoner murmured, “but they fall quite on their own.”

He led her over to the small table by the window and held out a chair for her before taking the other. “Tell me everything that happened between you and Mr. Armitage after your stepfather’s death.”

She looked surprised at that. “Mr. Holmes, there is no mystery for you to solve.”

“On the contrary – the mystery is why anyone would abandon a woman such as yourself. Now please, the facts.”

Miss Stoner looked down at her folded hands then said quietly, “I should have known something was terribly wrong when, despite the telegram I had sent, he failed to meet us at the train station.”

“Yes, I noticed that. I assumed his business affairs kept him.”

“So did I at the time, but now I suspect he was with Miss Mason.” She sighed quietly. “Despite my requests to see him, I did not until the next evening, when we dined at his favorite restaurant.” She swallowed hard. “That’s when he informed me that he wanted to end our engagement.”

He reached out to take her hand. “In choosing a public place, he ensured that you would not cause a scene.”

She nodded. “I would have done so anyway, if I had known the real reason.”

“What reason did he give?”

“Since we were only marrying to get me away from my stepfather, he said Dr. Roylott’s death meant that there was no longer a need.” Miss Stoner winced at the memory. “At the time, I thought Percy … Mr. Armitage’s reason to end the engagement was understandable and I had no objections.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Did he at least have the decency to tell you he was engaged again?

“No, I read it in this morning’s paper.” She dabbed her handkerchief at her eyes with her free hand. “I am honest enough with myself to recognize that she is a better match for him – Miss Mason is beautiful, accomplished-”

“And rich,” he said, disgusted, then he gentled his tone. “Mr. Armitage’s loss is the world’s gain – you are worth three Miss Masons.”

Miss Stoner looked genuinely surprised. “It is kind of you to say, Mr. Holmes-”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it, I am merely stating a fact.” He paused. “Besides a husband without a shred of integrity, I fail to see what Miss Mason is getting out of this marriage.”

“Connections – Mr. Armitage has a brother and an uncle in Parliament, Miss Mason’s father is interested in entering politics.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow again. “Not that I doubt you, but how do you know?”

“The Masons’ estate borders Mr. Armitage’s family estate. Mr. Armitage and Miss Mason have known each other since they were children.”

“I see. Did he express any interest in her while he was with you?”

“No, he was very careful about that.” She weakly attempted to pull her hand back.

Sherlock gently squeezed her hand but refused to let go. “What will you do now?”

“I have no idea, to be quite honest with you,” Miss Stoner said, not taking her eyes off their joined hands. “The bank has taken possession of Stoke Moran now that there is no one to make the mortgage payments. Not that I would have stayed there even if I could.”

Sherlock nodded. “Since you have the entirety of the inheritance your mother left, I can’t imagine money will be an issue for you.”

“It’s not,” she agreed, “but I feel uneasy being idle.”

Realization came to him. “You’ve spent so many years keeping your stepfather out of trouble with your neighbors that look after others became second nature.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I had planned to get involved in charitable works once I was married to Mr. Armitage.”

He smiled kindly. “I see no reason for you not to do that now. Your generous heart, Miss Stoner, should not go to waste.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” she murmured.

“Your heart will mend,” he said gently. “Just give it time.”

Miss Stoner gave him a small smile. “It’s not my heart that is wounded, sir, but my pride.”

Sherlock grinned. “Then we must mend it. Wash your face and change your dress. Put on whatever makes you feel the most confident.”

She stared at him. “Why? Where am I going?”

“Regent’s Park.”

Her eyes widened. “Now? But it will be full of people.”

“Exactly – we want to show the world that you are not hurt by Mr. Armitage’s decision.”

“But I am.”

“Yes, but they don’t need to know that. Show them your strength, Miss Stoner, and I guarantee they will flock to your side.”

She shook her head. “I can’t face them alone.”

Sherlock’s grin widened. “Who said you’ll be alone?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes into Victorian Era etiquette, which I'll explain in the notes at the bottom.

Helen took a deep breath before descending the hotel lobby staircase. Mr. Holmes looked up from the foot of the stairs and smiled at her, making her nerves melt away. She smiled back as she reached him and took his offered arm. He led the way to a waiting hansom outside then helped her climb in before getting in himself.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, seeing clients?” Helen asked, then added quickly, “Not that I object to your presence now, but I’d heard you are a busy man.”

Mr. Holmes chuckled. “As it stands, you’ve caught me at a slow time. London’s criminal classes tend to take a week or two off in the summer. I suppose even criminals have better things to do when the weather is fair.”

She smiled a bit. “Then, should I pray for rain?”

He grinned delightedly. “Yes, a deluge would be ideal.”

“Then that is what I will pray for.”

His grin widened. “I will keep an eye on the clouds in anticipation.”

_I didn’t know it could be like this with a man – being comfortable and lighthearted, having him truly care about me and listen to what I say, not to mention going out of his way to comfort me. Percy … Mr. Armitage always thought he knew best for me, even when that went against what I needed._

She must have been silent for too long – Mr. Holmes took her hand in his and she swore she could feel the warmth of his hand through both of their gloves. When her eyes met his, he gave her a tentative smile, something she never thought she’d see on the face of a man so confident. She smiled back shyly as she gently squeezed his hand.

He was about to say something when the driver announced that they were at Regent’s Park. Mr. Holmes got out of the hansom then helped her out before paying the driver. He offered her his arm, which she took gladly, and they walked into the park.

Just as Helen expected, it was already full of people, all of them wanting to show off in some way. Her previously rising confidence flagged as she took in all of the fashionably dressed women parading around in open carriages, on horseback, or on foot. A few of them looked dismissively at her walking dress of beige and cornflower blue and matching hat. The style was a few years out of fashion but it was the only walking dress she owned.

“Pay no attention to them,” Mr. Holmes murmured. “You look quite lovely in that.”

Helen gave him a pleased smile as she blushed slightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He started to point out sights of interest with his walking stick, the tip of which, she noticed, never touched the ground.

They made pleasant small talk as they followed the path up Primrose Hill. There were several people at the summit but no one paid any attention to the two of them – they were preoccupied with the view of London. Helen could admit that the scenery was pleasant, but what kept drawing her eyes was the man beside her.

Mr. Holmes' attention seemed to be in the direction of Baker Street. He smiled a bit. “I imagine Dr. Watson is currently writing a scathing letter to the editor of _The Times_ about Mr. Armitage’s boorish behavior.”

“I hope that’s not the case,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for him.”

He turned to her, surprised. “Whyever not? His behavior has been utterly shameful.”

“I would prefer to simply put all of this behind me.”

“If that is the case,” Mr. Holmes said gently, “then would you also prefer that Dr. Watson not publish his account of your stepfather’s death?”

Helen considered that for a moment. “He may publish it – I want the world to know the truth about Dr. Roylott – but I would ask that he leave out what has happened with Mr. Armitage since then.”

He nodded. “Very well, I shall inform Dr. Watson the next time I see him.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Have you decided where you’re going to live?”

“Not yet. I had no idea how expensive London is.”

“My landlady, Mrs. Hudson, has a sister, a Mrs. Turner. She has a house on Gloucester Place and I believe she has a vacancy. I can have Mrs. Hudson inquire for you, if you want.”

She gave him a relieved smile. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes. You have saved me once again.”

He chuckled as they started back down the hill. “Think nothing of it.”

They walked for a time in amiable silence as Helen enjoyed merely being in his presence. After a while, her curiosity was roused and she decided to satisfy it. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation.

“How is it that you are still a bachelor?”

He smiled a bit. “I have always believed that love would interfere in my work.”

She returned his smile and murmured, “What nonsense.”

He stopped dead in his tracks to stare at her. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“It’s very simple, Mr. Holmes – do you love your friends? Your family?”

“I have but one friend and one person left in my family.” At her expectant look, he continued. “If pressed, I might consider Mrs. Hudson to be like a member of the family. And yes, I suppose I do care for them, but that’s not the same as romantic love.”

“What would make romantic love so detrimental to your work?” she asked gently.

He looked around then led her over to a nearby fountain. She sat down on the edge but he remained standing and even started to pace in front of her.

“I feel romantic love is detrimental after seeing what it can do to perfectly rational people,” he said. “The passion is all-consuming and, I fear, addictive. _That_ is what I know will interfere in my work.”

She waited for him to pace back to her before holding out her hand to him. He didn’t hesitate to take it and sit beside her.

“Most people, Mr. Holmes, are capable of having both a romantic relationship and a vocation,” she said gently. “I haven’t experienced it myself, but I have read of it and seen it in others. While new love is said to be all-consuming, as you surmised, once the novelty has worn off, I think you would be able to keep everything in moderation.”

“You have never been in love?” he asked, surprised.

She smiled a bit. “Only with men in the books I’ve read. They couldn’t support me, but they also couldn’t break my heart.” She sighed quietly. “When Mr. Armitage proposed, I accepted that while I cared for him as a friend, I would never know romantic love.”

“Do you feel that it is worth waiting for?”

She smiled softly. “All of literature would have me believe it is. Since I am now free to do so, I will wait for it.”

Mr. Holmes nodded. “Then I hope the duration will not be a long one.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Miss Stoner-”

“Helen?” came the incredulous tone of a voice she knew very well.

She winced internally before turning to the speaker. “Mr. Armitage,” she said coolly, “since we are no longer engaged, I must ask that you address me as Miss Stoner.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said quickly, then he remembered the woman on his arm. “You remember Miss Mason.”

“How could I forget?” Helen asked, her voice still cold.

The other woman had the decency to blush. “Miss Stoner. It’s been too long.”

Mr. Armitage turned to Mr. Holmes, who still held her hand. “And you are?”

Helen turned to him, amused. “Would you like an introduction?”

Mr. Holmes smirked as he gently squeezed her hand. “Not particularly, but it seems to be unavoidable.”

She squeezed his in return before letting it go. “Mr. Holmes, may I present my former fiancé, Mr. Percy Armitage, and his new fiancée, Miss Louisa Mason. Mr. Armitage, Miss Mason, this is my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”

Miss Mason’s jaw dropped at the insult but Helen ignored her.

Mr. Holmes grinned. “How do you do?”

“The detective?” Mr. Armitage asked, rather stupidly in Helen’s opinion.

“The _consulting_ detective,” Mr. Holmes said, his grin not abating. “The world’s only. And what is it that you do, Mr. Armitage? I assume you are in trade since you are certainly not a gentleman.”

Mr. Armitage visibly bristled. “I’m a solicitor.”

“How appropriate,” he said, smirking. He then stood and offered his hand to Helen.

She took it and rose before taking his offered arm then she turned to Mr. Armitage. “This is the last time I shall acknowledge our acquaintance, Mr. Armitage. The next time we meet, I will say I do not know you.” Then she turned to Miss Mason. “Miss Mason, I will not say that you deserve better, for he is exactly the man you deserve, but I will say that you could do better.”

Mr. Holmes chuckled as he led her away from the fuming couple. Once they were out of earshot, he murmured, “Well done, Miss Stoner.”

The praise warmed her to her toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go.
> 
> Men and women didn't call each other by their first names until they were engaged. Since Helen and Percy are no longer engaged, it was a breech of etiquette for him to still use her first name, and she calls him on that.
> 
> Percy tries to introduce himself to Sherlock, another no-no. (Think Mr. Collins in _Pride and Prejudice_.) Introductions are supposed to be done by a mutual acquaintance. Percy wants to be introduced to Sherlock but it can only be done with Sherlock's permission, which Helen asks him for.
> 
> A social inferior is always introduced to a social superior. Likewise, a man is always introduced to a woman. Since Helen introduces Percy and Louisa to Sherlock, she is making a statement that both of them are inferior to him.
> 
> Sherlock plays on the two definitions of "gentleman" -- 1) a man with manners and 2) a man with enough money that he doesn't have to work for a living.
> 
> _Mr. Armitage visibly bristled. “I’m a solicitor.”_
> 
> _“How appropriate,” he said, smirking._ Sherlock is referencing the well-known saying "The law is an ass."
> 
>  _“This is the last time I shall acknowledge our acquaintance, Mr. Armitage. The next time we meet, I will say I do not know you.”_ Helen is threatening to "cut" Percy the next time she runs into him. In an age where social connections were very important, pretending you don't know someone you've already met was a huge insult.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock was amazed that he found pleasure in something as simple as walking arm-in-arm with Miss Stoner. _And why shouldn’t I? She’s intelligent, sensitive, and caring. Not to mention I still feel … protective towards her. Not paternalistic, certainly, but in a way that is hard to define. Watson would undoubtedly call it romantic, I’m sure, but that’s how he is. Still, she is an undeniably attractive young woman, someone I would like to know better._

“What were you going to say before we were so rudely interrupted?” she murmured, smiling a bit.

He chuckled. “I was going to ask if you’d like to accompany me to a concert tomorrow – Vivaldi’s _Four Seasons_.”

Miss Stoner smiled at him happily. “I would like nothing better.”

Sherlock grinned. “Splendid. I will be at your hotel at six.”

“I look forward to it, Mr. Holmes.”

“As do I.”

* * *

By the time John came home for dinner that evening, Sherlock, inspired by the lovely day and even more by Miss Stoner herself, was hard at work on a new composition.

His flatmate set aside his hunger long enough to listen to the entire finished piece and by the time Sherlock was done playing, John was grinning delightedly. “Beautiful, a little melancholy, but full of hope. I daresay, Holmes, you’ve managed to capture Miss Stoner perfectly.”

Sherlock chuckled as he set the Stradivarius and bow down. “Who said I wrote it with her in mind?” He mentally winced at the lie.

John scoffed. “Mrs. Hudson informed me when I arrived that you spent most of the day with her. I know you, Holmes. Miss Stoner may no longer be a client but you are pursuing her with the same single-minded focus you do with a particularly interesting case.” He smirked. “I’m simply glad you’ve finally found someone worthy of your devotion. Just say the word and I’ll start looking for a new flat.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “If such a thing becomes necessary, I will of course inform you, Watson. Right now, Miss Stoner and I are simply enjoying each other’s company.”

“And when will you enjoy her company again?” John asked, his grin widening.

“Tomorrow night, the Vivaldi concert.”

“I hope she likes violin music, for both your sakes,” he said, chuckling.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “When I asked her if she would accompany me, she said that she would like nothing better, so I assume that means she has an appreciation for violin music.”

“Or,” John said, grinning even wider, “she has an appreciation for a certain violinist.”

His cheeks warmed but he ignored the sensation and instead called for Mrs. Hudson.

* * *

The next morning, shortly after John left for his practice, Mrs. Hudson brought in a man’s calling card. “A gentleman to see you, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock read the card, one eyebrow raised. “A nobleman, specifically – the Earl of Chatham. Send him in, Mrs. Hudson – it’s not often that a peer deigns to come to me.”

“I hope he has an interesting case,” Mrs. Hudson said, her eyes twinkling. “You need something to occupy your thoughts when Miss Stoner isn’t around.”

“Not you too,” Sherlock muttered, but deep inside, he was pleased that his best friend and his landlady approved of her.

Mrs. Hudson chuckled as she left the room. A moment later, a man in his eighties entered the room, leaning heavily on his silver-tipped cane as he walked. He frowned when Sherlock made no move to get up from his chair by the fire.

“Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I presume,” the man said, his disapproval clear.

Sherlock smirked. “And you are George Gould, the 6th Earl of Chatham. How may I help you?”

The earl gingerly lowered himself onto the settee. “I’m looking for my granddaughters.”

“Were they taken or have they run off?” Sherlock asked, immediately intrigued.

“Neither – their mother and I became estranged long before they were born.”

“And yet, you’re not looking for your daughter,” he pointed out, one eyebrow raised.

“My daughter, Mariah, died in a train accident near Crewe many years ago.”

That set an alarm bell ringing in his head. “What was the cause of the estrangement?”

He sighed painfully. “As you might expect, it was a foolish reason when I look upon it now. She wanted to marry an Army major. I thought such a life was not good enough for her, but she married him anyway, even after I disowned her.”

“The major’s name?” Sherlock asked, though he knew what name the man was going to say.

“Stoner. Mariah wrote to me just four times after she married him. The first letter was to announce the birth of a granddaughter, Julia. Another, Helen, came along five years later. A year and a half after that, Mariah wrote that her husband, by then a major-general, had died. As with the other times, I implored her to come home but I received no response. Six months later, I received the last letter – she had married again.”

“The new husband’s name?” _As if I don’t know._

“Dr. Grimsby Roylott. At some point, they did come back to England, but my daughter had died before I was aware of their return. I tried writing Dr. Roylott and asked if I could see my grandchildren, but the letters were always returned unopened. I have recently heard rumors that the doctor is dead, and after seeing that the younger girl’s engagement is over, I want your help in finding them.”

Sherlock nodded. “I will make some inquiries. Come back tonight, after nine o’clock, and I should have their whereabouts.” _The truth isn’t mine to tell, it’s Miss Stoner’s, if that’s what she wants._

“Very well,” the earl said as he slowly rose. “I assume you’ll be discrete about this. The last thing I need are impostors.”

He smiled a bit. “You have my word. In fact, I only need to ask one person.”

“The fewer, the better. Until tonight, Mr. Holmes.” The old man left the room.

_Easiest case I’ve ever solved,_ Sherlock thought, smiling to himself. _Assuming, that is, that Miss Stoner wants it to be solved._

* * *

Once again, Sherlock found himself waiting at the foot of the stairs of The Langham’s lobby and once again, the first sight of Miss Stoner took his breath away. Her emerald green silk evening gown accentuated her figure, just as her artfully-arranged hair framed her face. Still, nothing could compare to her happy smile and dancing eyes when she caught his gaze as she descended the stairs.

Sherlock held out his hand to her as she neared the bottom, unable to keep a smile off his own face as she took his hand. “You look stunning, Miss Stoner,” he murmured.

“And you look very handsome, Mr. Holmes,” she murmured as she took in the sight of him in evening wear.

He grinned his thanks then offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation, and he led her to the hansom waiting outside.

The entire concert, all he could concentrate on was Miss Stoner. Towards the end, his conscience reminded him of the task in front of him. On their way out of the concert hall, he stopped on the landing of the outside steps, unmindful of the people having to move around them.

Sherlock turned to her. “Miss Stoner, would you object to us stopping at Baker Street before I take you home?”

“Not at all, but may I ask why?”

“There is someone there who is eager to meet you.”

She frowned slightly in confusion. “Who?”

“Your maternal grandfather.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him and took a step back. “No.”

“He deeply regrets how he treated your mother,” Sherlock said gently. “He wants to make amends.”

“He’s thirty-five years too late,” she said quietly then she glared at him. “I refuse to have anything to do with him, and I resent that you have taken this step without asking me first. Take me back to the hotel, Mr. Holmes. I will not go to Baker Street.”

A sudden fear that she was rejecting him as well as her grandfather tore through his heart like an icy wind. He grasped both of her hands in his and closed the physical distance between them. “Miss Stoner,” he murmured, “I did what I thought was right at the time.”

“You made an important decision concerning me without my input.” She looked at their joined hands and sighed painfully. “I trust you with my life, Mr. Holmes.”

“I ask you to trust me with this as well,” he said gently. “If you still wish to reject your grandfather after this meeting, you will have my unwavering support.” She looked so torn that he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and comfort her, but of course that wasn’t allowed. _Damn this society._

“Very well,” she said quietly. “But, Mr. Holmes?”

“Yes?” he asked warily.

“I ask that you not make a decision like this without me again.”

He grinned in relief. “You have my word.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Today was going so very well,_ Helen thought sadly as she sat beside Mr. Holmes in the hansom. _How could he expect me to be happy about this development? Mother never mentioned her family, therefore they must have hurt her deeply. Yet here I am, about to meet the patriarch. Oh, why did I agree to this?_

Mr. Holmes must have sensed her distress for he cradled her hand in both of his. “I will not leave your side, Miss Stoner,” he murmured. “No matter what happens.”

She looked down at their joined hands and murmured, “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.”

When they arrived at 221B, Mr. Holmes got out of the hansom then helped her out before paying the driver. Helen took note of the ornate carriage waiting outside then she followed Mr. Holmes into the house. Mrs. Hudson took his hat and gloves.

“The Earl of Chatham is waiting upstairs for you,” she said.

“Has he been waiting long?” Mr. Holmes asked, though he didn’t sound concerned about it.

“Only about ten minutes.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.”

The old woman went back to what she had been doing. Helen looked up in the direction of the sitting room and was struck by a renewed aversion to everything she had agreed to.

“I can’t do this,” she said quietly as she turned away from Mr. Holmes, her head in her hands. “Please, don’t make me…”

She felt his hands on her shoulders and despite the light touch, she flinched. They were immediately removed and she heard him move to stand in front of her.

“Dearest,” he said, his tone the gentlest she’d heard yet from him, “it is your decision to make, but you did come all this way.” There was a moment’s pause then she felt herself enveloped in a protective embrace.

Helen buried her face in his shoulder, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. She didn’t cry. She refused to cry over something so trivial. Still, she trembled and Mr. Holmes held her securely. The warmth of his body, the solidity of his presence, and the smell of his cologne did much to comfort her and she soon stopped trembling.

But she was loathed to leave the circle of his arms. After a moment, Helen felt him kiss her hair. She looked up at him and he lightly pressed his forehead to hers. Helen closed her eyes, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

It was Mr. Holmes who broke the silence as he pulled back a bit, his smile soft and his gaze fond. “As much as I would like to hold you indefinitely, you do have a decision to make.”

She sighed quietly. “I will see him, but please, don’t leave me alone with him.”

“You have my word.” He softly kissed her forehead before letting her go and offering her his hand.

She took it and he led her upstairs. They entered the sitting room and the old man sitting in Mr. Holmes’ chair by the fire stood, his eyes widening when he saw her.

“My God,” he murmured. “You look just like her.”

Mr. Holmes led her over to the settee. She sat down, not taking her eyes off the old man, but Mr. Holmes remained standing.

“Miss Stoner,” he said, “may I present George Gould, the 6th Earl of Chatham, your grandfather. Lord Chatham, this is Miss Helen Stoner, your granddaughter.” He let go of her hand but moved to stand beside her, keeping himself out of her line of sight but between her and the earl.

“How did you find her so quickly?” the earl asked, amazed.

“I already knew her, something I admit I kept from you, but I felt it was in Miss Stoner’s best interests.”

“And what about the other one? Did you find her?”

Tired of not being addressed directly, Helen spoke up. “Julia died two years ago, my lord.” She kept her tone civil.

Finally, the old man turned to her. “There’s no need for that, child. I’m your grandfather.”

“You are an earl and I’m the daughter of an Army officer, so yes, there is a need to call you ‘my lord’ since you are my ‘better.’” Her tone was as hard and cold as the diamond in the earl’s tie pin.

“You should have been brought up in society. I tried to persuade your mother to return. So much time has passed, but it’s not too late, you can still make your name amongst the _ton_. With the fortune your mother left behind when she married your father-”

“She didn’t leave it behind,” Helen cut in, her fury rising. “You revoked it when you disowned her.”

“Er … yes. As I was saying, with that fortune and your connection to the family, you’ll make a good catch for any husband.”

Mr. Holmes spoke up. “Miss Stoner is already a good catch without any outside assistance.”

The earl scoffed. “At twenty-seven with no money or connections, and her hair already turning grey? It’s no wonder you’re unmarried, child.”

She was about to stand up and walk out when Mr. Holmes gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Is there a point to this interview, my lord, or did you simply wish to insult me?”

He blinked in surprise. “I had no intention of insulting you, Helen. I mean to invite you back to your family, the people who love you.”

She scoffed. “How can you say you love me, someone you have never met, yet you disowned your daughter for following her heart? If this is what the nobility are like, I want nothing to do with them.”

“Disowning your mother was the worst thing I have ever done and I want to make it up to you since it’s too late to make it up to her. Please, Helen.”

She looked up at Mr. Holmes but he was being unhelpfully stoic, so she turned back to the old man. “What do you propose?”

The earl grinned happily. “Why, to give you a Season-”

“The Season is already half-over, and as you have already pointed out, I’m at an age where I am too old for a Season anyway.”

“Nonsense – we still have two months left of this Season, that should be more than enough to get you a husband.”

“And if I don’t like that way of finding a husband?”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “Once you’ve had the excitement of a Season, you’ll think differently. I’m hosting a week-long house party at our place in Scotland, starting this weekend. It’ll give you a chance to meet the rest of the family and for us to plan your presentation to the _ton_.”

She stared at him. “I don’t see-”

“And your friend Mr. Holmes may come too, if he wants. The more, the merrier.”

“I would be honored,” Mr. Holmes said.

Helen looked from the old man to Mr. Holmes, unable to believe what she was hearing. She turned back to the earl. “May I have some time to think it over?”

The earl grinned. “Of course. Let me know by Friday, you can take the train up on Saturday.” He rose from the chair with a little difficulty. “Mr. Holmes, I’ll have the cheque delivered to you tomorrow. Good evening to you both.” He left the room.

Mr. Holmes went to the window and waited until the earl’s carriage had left before he sat down next to her and gently took her hand, wisely not saying a word until she did.

“You accepted his offer very quickly,” she said, trying hard not to sound bitter but she knew she was failing.

“I wanted the earl to see that I would always support you,” he said gently, “but whether we go or not is entirely up to you.”

“He wants to make me into something I’m not, since what I am is apparently not good enough.”

“It is for me,” Mr. Holmes said, smiling softly.

She couldn’t help giving him a small smile in return. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes, but you seem to be in the minority. And then, once I am a rich and well-connected woman of the _ton_ , I will be expected to marry some eligible man and provide him with an heir, a spare, and whatever else he would want from me.” She looked away, sighing quietly. “After what happened with Mr. Armitage, I’m not certain that I even want to marry.”

“Then I will do my best to persuade you,” he murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

“Then I will do my best to persuade you.”

Miss Stoner looked at him, surprised. To be honest, he was a little surprised himself, but even more than that, he was certain that a life with Miss Stoner was what he wanted. _How ironic – I finally admit to having a heart only to find that it’s already hers._

He smiled at her fondly before standing up and offering her his hand. “It’s time I escort you home, Miss Stoner. We don’t want to harm the reputation of London’s newest heiress, now do we?”

She took his hand and rose, smiling a bit. “I hope you won’t treat me differently now that we know who I’m related to, Mr. Holmes.”

“I promise to always treat you the way you deserve because you are an extraordinary young woman,” he said softly, “not because of how much money you have or who your relatives are.”

Her happy smile was like the sun, and he privately vowed to make her smile like that as often as he could.

* * *

By the time Sherlock returned after escorting Miss Stoner to her hotel, John was at home, flush from a night at his club. He grinned from the settee when Sherlock walked into the sitting room.

“How was the concert?”

Sherlock chuckled. “To be honest, Watson, I couldn’t tell you a thing about the music – my attention was solely on Miss Stoner.”

John lit up, delighted. “Is that so?”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, unable to hide a smile as he headed for the fireplace and his pipe collection. “She has a hold on me like no one I have ever met.”

“Then, am I to expect a happy announcement in the near future?”

“There are … complications.” He busied himself with filling then lighting his clay pipe.

John’s good mood deflated. “What sort of complications?”

“It turns out Miss Stoner is the granddaughter of the Earl of Chatham.”

“Oh dear. What are you going to do?”

He sat in his chair and smoked his pipe as he considered the matter. “I’m not going to tell her I love her until she has seen something of the _ton_ and has a chance to meet other men.”

“But why?” John was utterly confused.

He smiled a bit. “I want to be her choice, not her only option.”

John smiled happily. “You truly are in love. Well, my friend, I wish you all the luck in the world.”

Sherlock scoffed, though his eyes were dancing. “I don’t need luck, Watson – I simply need a chance to prove to her that I would be the best husband.”

* * *

After spending the next morning solving simple cases, he took a hansom to The Langham that afternoon. For propriety’s sake, he met Miss Stoner in the lobby instead of her room as he would have liked. When she walked down the stairs to him, instead of the happy smile that he expected, he was surprised to see her with dark circles under her eyes and her expression and posture clearly showing exhaustion.

She took his offered hand but didn’t meet his eyes as she murmured, “Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes.”

“Good afternoon, my dear,” he said gently. “I see you didn’t sleep at all last night.”

Miss Stoner laughed quietly. “I would say you are using your deductive skills but anyone can see how right you are.”

After a moment’s contemplation, he decided the best place to take her would be his home. “Come, we can discuss it at Baker Street.”

She looked surprised at that. “But propriety-”

“Mrs. Hudson will be just downstairs,” he assured her, then he smiled a bit. “Besides, I am advising you in the matter concerning your newly-found grandfather, that makes this a business discussion, which even propriety allows us to have in private.”

That didn’t cheer her as he thought it would, but she still nodded and accepted his offered arm. She was silent the entire hansom ride to Baker Street, which he blamed on her sleepless night.

Mrs. Hudson met them at the door and took their hats and gloves then she smiled gently at Miss Stoner. “I’ll have tea ready in a moment, and don’t be surprised if there’s also a few chocolate biscuits.”

Miss Stoner smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.”

Sherlock felt a small measure of jealousy that Mrs. Hudson made the lady smile but he hadn’t yet that day. Gently taking Miss Stoner’s hand, he led her upstairs but didn’t miss Mrs. Hudson’s approving smile.

Once they were in the sitting room, Miss Stoner released his hand then pulled something out of her small purse and offered it to him – a folded cheque. “To cover your expenses from the Dr. Roylott case.” When he accepted it, she added, “I’ll write another for this case when it is concluded.”

Sherlock stared at her. “My dear … do you truly think I’m helping you now merely as a detective?”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly before sitting down on the settee. When he immediately sat beside her, she looked at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he insisted gently, taking her hand again. “If this is about what I said in the lobby-”

“It is.”

“That was simply to set your mind at ease in regards to the propriety of us being alone together.” He gently squeezed her hand. “My dear Miss Stoner, this isn’t a case to me. I came to you two days ago as a friend, and I am helping you now as…” He faltered, trying to find the right word to define their relationship.

“As what, Mr. Holmes?” she asked softly.

 _I can’t tell her the truth, not yet. She deserves all the suitors she could want, not just myself._ “As dearest friends.”

There was a flash of disappointment on her face but he decided he misread the emotion. “I suppose you are right,” she said quietly.

 _No, I was not mistaken – she is disappointed, but why?_ “Miss Stoner-” He was interrupted by a knock on the door and groaned inwardly. “Come in, Mrs. Hudson.”

The door opened and Mrs. Hudson brought in the tea tray, which she left on the table then left, but not before grinning knowingly at them. Sherlock rolled his eyes but he didn’t fail to see Miss Stoner’s blush. _I’ll have to ask Mrs. Hudson to be subtler in the future._ He got up and went to the table.

After a moment, Miss Stoner joined him. He was about to pour the tea when she put a hand on his, stopping him.

“Mr. Holmes, please,” she implored him, “if there is even a chance you could see me as something more than a friend, I beg you to tell me. You are the first man who has shown me true kindness and I feel-”

“Miss Stoner,” he cut in gently, “it is precisely because I am the first to show you true kindness that I ask that you only think of me as a friend.”

She scowled in confusion. “The man who comforted me last night did not behave like a friend.”

“You are quite right, and for that I apologize – I overstepped.”

She stared at him. “Overstepped? Mr. Holmes-”

“Miss Stoner, please. Much has happened since that moment.”

“Look into my eyes and tell me that if my grandfather weren’t offering me a fortune and an abbreviated Season, you would still want me to see you only as a friend.”

 _I can’t. I refuse to lie to this woman._ He hung his head.

“I see.” She sighed quietly. “There are men out there who will want me only for my money or my connections. I expect I will have to fend off many of them. I didn’t know that those same traits could repel someone.”

“Miss Stoner-”

She ignored his interruption. “Thank you for your help thus far, Mr. Holmes,” her tone polite but beneath, it was as brittle as glass. “It has meant more to me than you know, but I must continue alone. I will accept my grandfather’s invitation and I will tell him you are on an important case and thus cannot leave London.” She walked to the door then paused and turned to him. “And if I find a man among the _ton_ who wants me in spite of my money and connections, believe me when I say that I will marry him, Mr. Holmes. Even if he never makes me happy, I can live with being content – I was prepared to do it once, I can do it again. Good day, sir.”

* * *

“And then she walked out of the room and, presumably, out of my life,” Sherlock muttered as he paced the length of the sitting room that evening.

His flatmate was aghast. “And you didn’t go after her? Holmes, for a genius, you really are foolish sometimes.”

“Miss Stoner will meet other men, Watson, so in a way I did get what I wanted.”

“That is nonsense and you know it,” John said firmly. “Now pull yourself together, go to The Langham, and tell that woman you worship the ground she walks on before you lose her to some nobleman.”

“It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late.” He paused. “If you refuse to make your case, then I will make it for you.”

“No one is making any cases,” Sherlock insisted. “Marriage is simply not in the cards for me. I will accept that and move on, just as Miss Stoner insists she will.”

“Then both of you are fools,” John muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting angsty for our pair but don't worry, there will be a happy ending.


	6. Chapter 6

A thunderstorm rolled in that night and Helen couldn’t deny that it perfectly matched her mood – raging and weepy all at once. She sat in the bed, her knees drawn up and her face buried in them as she cried for the happiness that had seemed just within reach, only to be taken from her like every other bright spot in her life.

When Helen woke the next morning, she was determined to put the consulting detective out of her mind for good. She was having breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant when a man approached her table and recognized him instantly.

“Dr. Watson, hello,” she said, giving him the happiest smile she could.

“Hello, Miss Stoner,” he said, smiling gently. “May I sit down?”

“Of course.” She couldn’t help looking past him to see if he’d brought a companion.

“I see you’re looking for Mr. Holmes. He’s not with me but he’s the reason I’m here,” he explained as he sat down across from her.

She sighed heavily. “He told you what happened yesterday.”

“Yes. And before you ask, he didn’t send me. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Helen stared at him. “Then, he doesn’t care?”

“On the contrary – he cares deeply, but he’s also the most stubborn man I have ever met.” Dr. Watson rolled his eyes. “I cannot tell you things I’m not at liberty to say, but I will say that he did what he thought was right when he asked you to think of him as just a friend.”

“Do you think he was right?” she asked quietly.

“Certainly not.” He glanced at his pocket watch then stood. “I should be going but I ask, Miss Stoner, that you not shut the door on him just yet.”

“I cannot wait for him to come through the door forever, Dr. Watson.”

He grinned. “If Holmes isn’t with you on the train to Scotland, I’ll eat my hat.”

The laugh that escaped her couldn’t be helped, but it did feel good.

* * *

For the rest of the week, Helen felt like she was being watched, which she dismissed as coming from an overactive imagination. Early Friday morning, she took a hansom to Regent’s Park then walked up Primrose Hill. At such an hour, she was alone at the summit. Once again, the views of the city went unnoticed as all her thoughts were centered on Sherlock Holmes.

“I knew I would find you here.” The soft voice coming from behind her was unmistakable.

_I just wish I knew what to say to him._ “I’m sure it wasn’t hard to deduce, Mr. Holmes,” she said quietly without turning around. “I’ve only been in town less than a fortnight, there aren’t many places that I have been to.”

“Yes,” he said gently, “but there is only one place where you spent the day with the man you love.”

“My feelings are not the issue here.” It was hard having a conversation with a man whose face she couldn’t see but she refused to look at him.

“Can you not see what I am attempting to do?” The pain in his voice shot through her. “I want- no, I _need_ to give you time, to give you a chance to have your Season and meet other men. Younger men, closer to your own age, with titles and connections to the highest circles. Men you could seriously consider marrying. It’s what you deserve – not as the granddaughter of an earl but because you are a good woman who has been through too much hardship. And once you’ve had your fill of those men, then, and only then, do I want you to consider me.”

She swallowed hard before turning to face him. “I asked you once before not to make decisions concerning me without my input, Mr. Holmes.”

“Then what would you have me do, Miss Stoner?” he asked, holding out his hands in supplication. “You deserve to have as many suitors as you could want.”

“It so happens that I only want one,” she said gently as she took his hands. “Therefore, all I ask of that one suitor is that he pursues me with the same fervor that he pursues a criminal.”

Mr. Holmes chuckled. “He’ll have to since you have quite stolen his heart.” He looked at their joined hands and sighed quietly. “Can you forgive me?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Can you accept that you are the only man I could possibly want?”

“Even with all of England to choose from?” he asked as he looked at her, his eyes dancing.

She smiled softly. “Even with the whole world to choose from.”

He grinned. “I believe I can accept that, yes.” They both laughed softly then he said gently, “What will you tell your grandfather?”

She smiled a bit. “How do you know I haven’t already given him my answer?”

“I hoped.”

“I will tell him I will take the train tomorrow with my suitor, if that is acceptable.”

Mr. Holmes grinned wider. “It is.”

Helen sighed quietly. “I want to apologize for what I said yesterday when I left. I didn’t mean any of it – I never could have married someone else.”

“Dearest,” he murmured, “it is quite forgotten. In fact, I promise to never hold anything you say in a fit of anger against you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured then she laughed softly. “I don’t know what to call you now.”

“I’d say we are close enough to being engaged that you may call me Sherlock.”

Knowing that he would someday soon ask her to marry him made her incandescently happy. “Then you may call me Helen.”

He grinned then offered her his arm. When she took it, he led the way down the hill. “Besides telling your grandfather we’ve accepted his invitation, what else do you need to take care of before the trip?”

“I still need to pack.” She glanced down at her dress. “I had thought about buying a new wardrobe but didn’t see the point – they must all know my circumstances, why should I hide it?”

Sherlock nodded. “I see nothing wrong with your clothes – a beautiful woman such as yourself has no need for the latest fashions, they would only distract from your face and figure.”

She couldn’t help blushing a bit as she smiled. “Thank you. Unfortunately, I doubt the _ton_ will see things the way you do.”

“Helen,” he said gently, “you’re about to be put under society’s microscope. They will judge you on everything from your shoes to your hats, not to mention your character. I want you to remember two things. First, the opinions of small-minded people do not matter.”

_I feel better already,_ she thought, smiling happily. “And the second?”

He smiled at her softly. “That I love you and will always be there to support you.”

Happy tears welled in her eyes and he was quick to offer her his linen handkerchief. “Thank you,” she murmured as she accepted it and dabbed at her eyes. “I love you, Sherlock, and I will always support you as well.”

His face lit up with happiness and she thought he was going to kiss her but he held back. “Let’s go to Baker Street, you can send your grandfather a telegram and I can impress you if any clients drop in.”

“You already impress me, sir,” she murmured, “just by being yourself.”


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday evening, Sherlock took a hired carriage to the train station. It was a chilly and rainy night and he wanted nothing more than to be inside a warm cabin with his intended. _She’ll soon be my fiancée, if all goes well,_ he thought. The engagement ring he had picked out for her earlier that day was safely tucked inside his jacket pocket and the thought of Helen’s happy face when he gave it to her warmed him immeasurably.

 _I must wait, though, for the right moment_. He opened his black umbrella as he stepped outside the carriage and a porter brought his trunk over to where it would be loaded on the train, leaving him with just his black leather bag. Sherlock scanned the platform for his intended but she was nowhere to be seen.

He found her sitting on a wooden bench inside the station, reading a novel. Grinning to himself, he approached her bench then sat down next to her. “A miserable evening has just improved dramatically.”

Helen chuckled without looking up from her book. “Thank you.” She closed the book then smiled at him happily. “Good evening, Sherlock.”

“Good evening, dearest,” he murmured before taking her offered hand and kissing her knuckles. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all.” She glanced out the large window at the trains and the ever-increasing darkness. “I suspect the weather will be like this all the way to Edinburgh.”

Sherlock nodded then glanced at the tickets in her hand. “You have something to tell me.”

Helen sighed quietly. “When my grandfather offered to purchase the tickets for us, I had no idea we’d be in separate carriages. You’re in First Class, while I have a private cabin.”

“Disappointing, to be sure, but we’ll be together once we arrive in Scotland.”

She looked at him. “You could stay with me until it’s time for bed.”

“It’s for the best if I don’t – we don’t want any harm to come to your reputation.”

“Or yours,” she said, sighing quietly. “It’s not as if we would be doing anything improper.”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “These days, even the possibility of impropriety is enough. But rest assured, I will think of you the entire time.”

“And I you,” she said, smiling softly.

Part of him wanted to propose then and there but he knew it wasn’t the right time. “Your grandfather is certain to object to me.”

“Sherlock, if he objected to your presence, he wouldn’t have paid for your ticket.”

“I believe he only did that to ensure your cooperation.”

She sighed quietly. “If he does object to you, it won’t make a difference in how I feel or what I want. I will choose you over him every time.”

 _Ask her,_ his heart insisted. _Wait,_ his mind replied. “Thank you, dearest,” he murmured happily.

“You’re welcome,” she murmured. She read her book aloud to him while they waited for their train.

When boarding was announced, he escorted her to the train then kissed her hand when it was time for them to part. Her soft smile warmed him and he made his way to his compartment, happy in the knowledge that they were likely to dream of each other that night.

* * *

Helen listened to the sounds of the train rumbling along the tracks and the rain hitting the windows as she tried to sleep. The private room was the very definition of comfort and warmth but all she could think of was Sherlock being so near yet so far. _Not that he could be in the room with me anyway,_ she thought miserably. _Not until we’re married._

The thought of being married to Sherlock Holmes brought a soft smile to her face. _I know he’ll be the best husband, and I will do everything I can to be the best wife._ She fell asleep imagining what it would be like to kiss him.

Helen woke to the room filled with morning light, the night’s rain long since passed. The train still rumbled along and she assumed they would reach Edinburgh soon. She got up, dressed quickly, and was just pining up her hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Sherlock. Are you decent?”

“Yes.” She unlocked the door and opened it to see him smiling at her tiredly. She smiled softly. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Helen. Would you care to join me for breakfast in the dining car?”

“That sounds lovely.” She took his offered arm and he led her to the dining car and they settled into a table. Helen took a moment to admire the passing scenery outside the train before turning to Sherlock. “I dreamt of you.”

He chuckled softly. “I hoped you would. Was it a good dream?”

“Of course,” she murmured. “We were married and simply enjoying each other’s company.”

Sherlock grinned. “Then I’d say that was a prophetic dream.”

That warmed Helen even more than the coffee the waiter brought with their breakfast. “What about you?”

“I did dream of you, but it was a fleeting thing – I didn’t sleep well.” Her face must have shown the concern she felt and he smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Helen. I have functioned on much less sleep before.”

They spent the rest of their meal discussing his previous cases and Helen found herself getting lost in the soothing sound of his voice. Sherlock’s knowing grin told her he noticed and she blushed happily.

After breakfast, he escorted her back to her cabin. When he didn’t enter the room and merely stood outside the door, she gently took his hand and pulled him into the room, trying to tell him with her eyes what she wanted. He nodded then closed and locked the door behind him before gently taking her into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around him, murmuring, “Is this alright?”

“Perfectly alright,” he assured her. “I have wanted to do this for so long, perhaps even since we met, and I doubt we’ll get much privacy where we’re going.” He gazed at her silently a moment before lowering his head to kiss her softly.

She kissed him back shyly as it was her very first kiss. Once she relaxed into it, the pleasure of Sherlock’s mouth on hers was like nothing she had ever felt and everything she had hoped it would be.

He lifted his head after a moment to gaze at her. “I would say Armitage was a fool for leaving you but if he hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.” He sighed softly. “If we were married, I’d continue this to its logical conclusion but as it stands…”

“I know,” she murmured. “I actually considered suggesting we stop at Gretna Green on the way home but that feels-”

“Dishonorable?” he suggested, his smile gentle.

Helen nodded then she smiled weakly. “Of course, we’re not even engaged yet.”

“Not yet, but soon.” He softly kissed her forehead.

“You’re waiting until you’ve spoken to my grandfather.”

“Yes, I thought that would be the best route.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek. “I won’t ask for his permission since we don’t need it, and I won’t ask for his blessing since we don’t want it, but I feel it necessary to inform him. But not to worry, dearest – nothing he can say or do will prevent our union.”

Helen’s heart felt like it would burst, it was so full of love. “Oh, Sherlock…”

He grinned at her. “I suspected that would please you.”

“Immensely,” she murmured before kissing him softly.


End file.
